Out of Fright
by Multiversity
Summary: Fazbear Robotics produced only eighteen animatronic characters before being forced to shut down in 1990. 13 of those went to its primary business partner and namesake, Fazbear Entertainment. The remaining five were sent elsewhere, but their story isn't any more peaceful than Freddy's... **Cover image is temporary**
1. Coming Online

The first time he woke up, he was in a white room.

A large room, too. There were several metal shelves lining the walls, each covered in parts and machinery. The room was dotted with tables, and people in goggles and gloves were working on something on the far side of the room. The things looked humanoid, or at least looked like they would be eventually. A table near the builders was also being worked on; they were making hollow, furry things of differing shape and color.

One… _suit_ , the word sprung to mind… one suit was off to the side, looking more or less complete. It was brown and slightly bulky. The headpiece featured a… _top hat_ , and had two little round ears. A bear?

Bear. That was the word he seemed to be stuck on when he looked at it. He wasn't sure where from these words were coming, but they were certainly helpful.

A noise in front of him drew his attention. There were two men observing him, both wearing white labcoats. He had not noticed them because he was much, much taller, and had been looking over their heads. The shorter man had a blue shirt on. The taller man wore green, and had dark skin. Both were staring at him, as if waiting for him to do something.

The short man suddenly smiled and lifted a clipboard. "Hello!" he said brightly.

He blinked. He felt his jaw open, and then close again. He was not sure how to speak, although he knew that he could. He tried again.

"...hhh… he-he-Hello…" he finally said. He took note of the way his voice sounded. He sounded different than the man. More… distant? No, that's not right…

The short man spoke again, "Do you know who you are?"

He blinked. He searched for the knowledge, but did not find it. "No. I do not." There it was again. It was bothering him how his voice sounded. It didn't sound right.

He suddenly noticed that the two men were craning themselves back quite a bit to make eye contact with him. He lowered himself into a sort of crouch for their comfort.

The men seemed surprised at the movement. The short man furiously wrote something down. The tall man did as well, pulling a small notebook from his coat.

Then the short man looked back to him, smiling again. "Ah right. Your name is Booker. Booker the Bat."

 _Bat_. A wooden stick used to hit small balls in mid-air. No, obviously not.

He-no, Booker-looked at himself for the first time. His arms were long and segmented at the joints. Covered in dark gray fur. His hands had four fingers and a thumb, all ending in metal claws, ending in what appeared to be vicious points, but were actually dulled and coated in a hard rubber, textured invisibly to allow grip. Starting from each wrist, a long black fabric hung from each arm and across his shoulders like some sort of cape. Or perhaps wings…

 _Bat_. A small, flying mammal with leathery wings. Yes, that's more like it.

Hunched over as he was, the cape dragged on the floor. Even at his considerable full height, it appeared as though it would cover him to his toes. Still, it seemed like it could easily get in the way…

With a sudden thought, the wrist-to-elbow segment of his left arm opened slightly with a _click_ , and the fabric fell. Alarmed, Booker immediately grabbed it and clipped it back into place. The taller man chuckled.

Booker looked further down and noticed his feet. He glanced up to the bear suit he'd noted previously, and saw that his feet were very different. The bear's was a simple three-toed paw. Booker's had four, and were longer, and a featured retractable, exposed-metal hooks whose purpose escaped him.

Finally, Booker took notice of the emerald vest he appeared to be wearing, assuming it wasn't built onto the suit… no, it was actually removeable, though it appeared he would need to remove the cape first to do so.

Curious as to his face, but satisfied for now, Booker looked up again. The two men were smiling, amused by his self-exploration. Feeling slightly embarrassed, Booker stood slightly taller and nodded once.

"Yes. I am Booker the Bat."

The short man nodded to himself. "Very good! And do you know what your job is?"

"I do not."

The taller man spoke up this time. "You're to be sent to an amusement park a few counties over. Place called, er," he leaned over to look at the short man's clipboard, "...FantastaWorld? Well, they can't all be winners." The man cleared his throat. "Anyway, you're to be sent there to be the main attraction of their new haunted house ride."

A young woman passing by, carrying materials towards the other machines, stopped briefly. "I've seen it, it's actually really impressive," she said, grinning.

"Back to work, Miss Carol," the short man said absently.

"Yessir." She said, and left.

Booker watched the exchange stoically.

The tall man coughed again. "Right. You're going to be running around the place, scaring and chasing any customers you come across."

Booker took a moment to consider this, then tilted his head. "What am I to do if I catch them?"

The short man paused in his writing, and the two shared a look.

"Well, you won't catch them, really," the short man said awkwardly. "You're just sort of there to give them a fright and chase them out of the house."

"Yes. But what if I am faster than they are? Or they don't run?"

The short man raised a finger, then slowly withdrew it. "Uh."

The tall man laughed suddenly, drawing attention from the workers. "Ha! What'd I tell you, Cecil? 'Oh, how hard could it be,' you said. 'Singing and dancing, stalking and roaring, it's all the same,' you said. I told you horror was a whole different animal from cartoons, but you just went with the same base program as the kiddy animatronics."

The short man-Cecil-grumbled to himself and started flipping through his papers. "Laugh it up, Saul. I know I programmed everything he needed, I have the notes in here somewhere…" He scowled suddenly and threw the clipboard on the nearest table. "Wonderful. Now we'll need to start from scratch."

Saul stooped over, catching his breath. "Nah, we don't have to do that," he said. "Those guys at the diner had to teach Fredbear and Spring Bonnie how to do their act, we'll just do the same here. After all, they aren't expecting him for another couple weeks."

"And how do you propose we do that?"

"My sister's a real horror movie buff, and I think one of the interns is in film school. We'll show him a bunch of scary movies and junk and Shelley and the kid can make sure he knows what he's doing."

Cecil looked thoughtful. "Hmm. Yes, that might work. At the very least it'll be enough for him to build on when he starts working in earnest…"

As the two began discussing their plan, Booker looked on. Several of the other people in the room had stopped to watch them talk, but a few were still working. Seeing how Saul and Cecil appeared busy, Booker began moving towards the unfinished… animatronics? Was that what Saul had called them?

Currently, most of the remaining workers were focused on the red suit. Booker leaned over them, quietly. The suit looked thin and angular. The mouth had several sharp teeth. Booker checked his own, and found to his surprise that they felt rather sharp as well. The red suit's most interesting feature was a missing right hand. Booker looked towards the animatronics themselves and saw that one had a large metal hook replacing a hand.

He leaned over the worker's shoulder. "What is this?"

The man jumped straight up with a yell, banging his head into Booker's shoulder. Booker stepped back quickly, surprised.

"Gah, what was… oh." The man grimaced and rubbed his head. "I didn't know you were walking yet."

Booker glanced towards where the two men who seemed to be in charge were still talking. They appeared to not have noticed his absence yet. "Should I not be?"

The man shrugged and returned to work. "Eh, if you weren't you probably wouldn't be."

Booker nodded slowly. "What is this?"

"Hm? Oh, this here's Foxy, the pirate!" The young man grinned. "Can you believe the bosses let me design a character?"

"Really." _Pirate_. One who commits crimes upon the open seas. "Is that appropriate?"

"What? Well, yeah. Kids love pirates. I think he's gonna be a big hit!"

"Perhaps."

"Booker!"

Booker turned. Saul was approaching.

"Ah, you've already met Connor, I see. Connor my boy, I have a proposition for you!"

Connor frowned at being dragged from his work, but turned and answered. "Yeah?"

"How would you like to help Booker here learn how to be scary?"

Connor looked up at the bat animatronic, who looked back expectantly. He started to say no, but then took a closer look at the almost fluorescent green eyes, the mouth full of fangs, the clawed feet, and the staggering eight foot height…

Gears started turning in his head, and Connor smiled as the idea became more appealing.

"Do I get any overtime for this, Dr. Saul?"

Saul turned away and seemed to struggle with something for a moment, then turned back with a slightly forced smile.

"Naturally. How's, uh, fifty bucks per session sound?"

"A hundred."

"Eighty."

"Done."

Booker watched, uncomprehending.

* * *

Booker's first week awake flew by. He spent 72 hours watching horror movies, and learned much about what people found scary. More interestingly, though, was when the workers and interns would come into his room during their breaks to watch with him. He learned more watching them than he did watching the movies. The workers laughed as often as they screamed, which Booker had difficulty understanding at first. Fear was bad wasn't it? Why would they _laugh_ at being scared? Connor's explanation helped greatly.

"Fear is our response to danger. Way back when we were in, I don't know, tribes or something, people heard a wolf howl in the distance and they were afraid because now they knew that there was a predator around. The fear made them alert, and so they were on guard and searching for the wolf. Nowadays, we have movies to scare us, and they're all kinds of fun because we can get the rush that comes from fear without _actually_ being in any danger."

Booker considered this.

"So… being afraid is fun when there's nothing to be afraid of?"

"Basically."

It was from these conversations with Connor that Booker learned that the building he was in was a retrofitted warehouse, and that the company had recently changed its name to Fazbear Robotics; he never found out what the original name was. He also found out that the other robots he'd seen being constructed were prototypes, to eventually be used by Fredbear's Family Diner, in the next town over.

After Dr. Saul's supply of movies ran out, Booker began learning to scare people himself. It was here he learned why his voice had bothered him so much: the electric crackle of his speakers set his voice apart quite easily. Now that he knew what the issue was, he could quite easily solve it. Now he spoke more easily, the crackle still present but barely noticeable.

Of course, this was secondary to learning how to roar. He could produce all manner of sounds. Dr. Saul and connor had tried to get him to make some sort of low growl and a lion's roar, but Booker found it felt wrong. He was a bat, after all. Bats did not growl. He eventually settled on a piercing screech that he quite liked, based on the sound he'd heard when he accidentally scraped his claws on a chalkboard. The workers, and Dr. Cecil especially, had called the noise "horrible." Booker had decided that meant he was on the right track.

The highlight of the week had come when he'd walked in on the new bots' first activation.

* * *

Booker was only five days old at this point, and already he'd begun to relish his free time. Connor had asked him to visit the workshop when he was free. Booker supposed he wanted an opinion on his work. It was the least he could do, given how hard Connor was working to help him.

He entered the room and was instantly greeted by the sight of the unfinished bot from before, now in their suit and awake. They were staring straight back at him.

Booker's personality had already begun developing into what the girl Carol called, "overdramatic." When Booker saw the new animatronics up and about, he grinned as wide as he could and made a grand, sweeping gesture, rapidly closing the gap between them.

"Greetings, my friends! How are you enjoying the waking world?" He punctuated his greeting by throwing an arm around the bunny and holding his other arm out.

"Uh… uh…" the bunny seemed overwhelmed.

Connor shook his head, smiling. "Easy there, Bats. They've only been up a few minutes."

"Oh, sorry friend! How rude of me. _I_ am Booker the Bat," he said, falling into a deep mock bow. "And you are?"

The bear, who seemed rather calm compared to the others, tipped his hat. He seemed to get the joke. "Freddy Fazbear. A pleasure."

The yellow thing smiled. "Chica the Chicken."

The bunny still looked shaken, but, in a move that visibly puzzled the nearby technicians, it gulped and muttered something even Booker's ears couldn't make out.

Chica walked over and patted the bunny's back. It smiled gratefully. "Uh, Bonnie. That's my name."

Booker decided he'd gone slightly too far, and smiled kindly. "Charmed."

The final one, the red fox Connor had made, smirked. "And I'm Foxy the, er, Pirate!"

Booker caught the hesitation and gave Foxy a look. After a moment, he said, "Foxy… do you know what a pirate is?"

The fox looked indignant. "Of course I do! It's what I am, with the pointy ears and red fur, just like Bonnie's a bunny!"

Booker attempted to cover his smile. Several of the technicians were holding back laughs as well.

"Oh, friends… I have so much to tell you…"

Connor scoffed. "Come off it, you're not even a week older than they are, what do you know they can't figure out?"

"Well, like you said the other day: the best way to learn is to teach."

And so the rest of the day was spent with the five robots talking about anything that came to mind.

The two weeks left at Fazbear Robotics were spent practising with Connor, visiting the other animatronics, and raiding Dr. Cecil and Saul's offices for whatever books he could get his claws on; Booker had discovered an insatiable desire to learn, and the time passed far too quickly for Booker's taste.

Everyone had gathered behind the lab to see him off; the doctors, Connor, several of the staff, and the other animatronics.

Currently, Booker was staring at the crate he was to be carried in. He gave Dr. Cecil a look.

"How, precisely, am I expected to fit in this?" The crate only came up to slightly above his knees.

Cecil shrugged. "Curl up in a ball, I suppose. Or in pieces."

"Why can I not simply ride in the cabin?"

Saul gestured to the two men who were standing by, waiting for the cargo to be loaded. They were watching with the glazed look of one who has seen far too much to be bothered by something as simple as sentient machines.

"There's only enough room for these two. Frankly I'm not sure you'd fit up there even just by yourself."

Booker sighed. "I suppose that's fair." He turned to Freddy. "Good luck with everything, you lot. I wish I could be there to see your show."

Freddy took his hand and shook it. "Likewise, Booker. It's been a pleasure." The others all voiced something similar.

As the staff began escorting the machines back inside, Connor came up. "You know they're still prototypes, right? They might well have to be reset between now and when they get deployed. They almost certainly won't remember you…" He rubbed his arm awkwardly.

Booker nodded. "It occurred to me, yes. In the end it doesn't matter if they remember me, so long as I remember them."

Connor gave a lopsided grin. "Did someone slip you some of Dr. Saul's philosophy books?"

"Maybe." The two chuckled, while Saul grumbled in the background.

"You'll visit, won't you?" Booker asked, suddenly looking worried.

"Sure I will. After all, someone's gotta make sure you're kept in shape."

The bat animatronic smiled. "Until next time, then." He grabbed as much of his cape in his arms as he could and squirmed his way into the box. The crate was sealed up after him and loaded up.

As the truck started and took off, Booker felt himself drifting into standby, and quickly fell asleep.

* * *

 **Well, I say. It's been a while since I did any real writing. Hope I've not gotten too... _rusty..._**

 **Oh yes, also: I do not own FNaF. There, that's the one disclaimer. I'm not going to say it again.**

 **Questions, comments, concerns?**


	2. Getting Settled

**Hey, heads up. From now on, imagine Booker's normal voice as sounding like Vincent Price.**

* * *

 **October 3, 1970**

The attendant smiled as he let them through to the newest attraction. The group of teens looked up at the mansion, some with apprehension, most with excitement.

The apparent leader whirled around once he reached the porch. "Alright, guys. Who wants to go first?" His name was Charlie, and he wore a shockingly bright red blazer, a stark contrast to the rather plain jeans and t-shirt underneath. He was grinning broadly, and watching the crowd of freshmen and sophomores in poorly-concealed anticipation.

Charlie waited. "What, no one's volunteering? Come on guys, what are you scared of? These things are always so lame; it'll be hilarious!"

The attendant smiled to himself.

A blonde girl rolled her eyes and opened the door. The others followed after a moment.

"Whoa…"

"Sick, man…"

The Frightful Manor was by no means small from the outside, but the size of the room still caught most of the teens off guard. It looked exactly how you'd expect an old, spooky house to look, with a the dark carpet, the red walls, and the flickering candles giving the place only _just_ enough light. The grand hall they'd just entered had two staircases on either side leading up to the second floor landing, which wrapped around the room. The ground floor had two doors on the left wall and two on the right. The landing had a set of double doors on the far wall, and another four doors mirroring those below. Nestled in between the two sets of stairs was what looked like a small stage, with faded green curtains hiding whatever it held from view. The half dozen or so paintings scattered on the walls seemed like they were watching their every move. A massive chandelier hung over their heads, glinting in the candlelight. The whole place felt _old;_ quite an accomplishment for only being open for two weeks so far.

Charlie whistled. "Woah, would ya look at this place. This might be fun after all!"

Suddenly, just as the last kid walked inside, the doors slammed shut, leaving the kids in darkness. Several screamed on impulse. A pair of girls tried to open them, but they seemed shut tight.

Charlie scowled. The slamming doors had made him jump. "Calm down, ya babies! What did you expect from a haunted… house?"

A spotlight turned on, shining on the stage from somewhere up above. Music started playing, scratchy like and old phonograph, and the green curtains slowly parted to reveal… something. Something very tall.

The thing jerked to life, glowing green eyes becoming visible as it made stiff, sweeping gestures. It spoke in a metallic voice.

 _"*Greetings, my friends! And welcome to the Frightful Manor, a place where nightmares come to life!*"_

Charlie scoffed.

 _"*Before you split up - and yes, you will split up. You always do - allow me to offer a word of warning.*"_ The machine put a finger to its mouth. _"*Be very quiet. You never know what might be listening.*"_ It held its arm in front of its face, hiding most of itself behind its cape. _"*Never stop moving, and never stay out in the open for long. You never know what might be following.*"_ Now it turned around and looked back at them over its shoulder. _"*Finally…_ _ **RUN.** *_ _"_

Its voice suddenly went very deep. The spotlight cut out, setting off a few more screams as the room was cast in darkness.

 _"*Otherwise this won't be any fun…*"_ The voice laughed, fading away as the light returned. The thing on the stage was gone.

There was an audible click, and all the doors except the exit creaked open.

There was a pause. Then Charlie barked a laugh and dragged the blonde girl with him into the nearest door, which closed behind them. The others paired off and went for their own doors, some more reluctantly than others.

High above, hanging from the rafters and obscured in the shadows, Booker watched them disperse, eyes wide with excitement. The past couple weeks had been busy, yes, but this was the biggest group he'd yet had to deal with at once.

Ideas forming and figurative gears turning in his head, Booker dropped down once the last door closed and got to work.

* * *

"Man, this sucks…"

Charlie wasn't having fun. He'd chosen this dumb house in the first place just to get alone with Sarah, but it was October, so everyone else wanted to see it too. He managed to get the two of them away from everyone else, though, so he'd started thinking it wasn't too bad…

Of course, he hadn't considered the idea that maybe Sarah wasn't interested. She'd shot down all his attempts to flirt before he could get off the ground. Now they were stuck in this hallway, walking in silence. There hadn't even been any scares. Sure, the place gave him the creeps, but aside from that goofy-looking robot at the beginning there was nothing happening-

As if in response to his silent gripes, Sarah suddenly stopped. Charlie almost didn't notice in time to stop from walking into her.

Of course, he decided to walk into her anyway.

"Hey! Watch it-"

She clapped a hand over his mouth and hissed, _"Listen."_

Charlie listened. "I don't… wait."

It sounded like someone was yelling… and getting closer.

Then two freshmen rounded a corner up ahead and barrelled past them, screaming their heads off.

The not-couple watched them disappear down the hallway.

"What do you think that was about?"

Charlie snorted. "What, with them? Tim and Barry are chickens. I bet… heh, I bet they got, like, tangled up in a sheet and thought it was a ghost or… uh, what's that sound?"

There was a very faint metallic sound. The pair turned to look where the boys had come from.

A clawed hand grabbed the corner. A shadow shifted, and then two green pinpricks of light were staring at them.

And then a horrible, shining mouth of teeth grinned at them from the darkness.

Sarah took a step back. The thing took a step forward.

 _"Charlie!"_ she hissed out of the corner of her mouth, " _When I say the word, we run, okay?_ "

There was no answer. Sarah dared to look behind her. Charlie was already running out of sight. Sarah's mouth dropped in shock.

" _Really?!_ Well you can forget about talking to me ever again, you _jerk!"_

"The nerve of some people, hmm?"

Sarah sighed. "You can say that aga-"

She froze, and then slowly looked up. The green pinpricks and the metal smile were directly over her.

It leaned down until she swore she felt its muzzle against her nose.

 _"Boo."_

Sarah ran.

Booker watched her go with an amused smirk. "I do so love a satisfied customer."

* * *

The doors had all unlocked shortly after Booker started the hunt; that meant it was only a matter of time before the kids started running out. The Manor attendant, Jim, had decided that a dozen high schoolers was probably full capacity, so he'd closed the que and settled back with a book once they were inside.

Fifteen minutes later, and the doors flew open. The four kids were fighting each other to get out, until a fifth crashed into them from behind and sent them all sprawling. Jim went over and helped them up, smirking.

"So, kids, how'd it go? Some fun, right?"

They gawked at him, incredulous. "Fun?! What was that thing?!"

Jim shrugged. "You were the ones who saw it, you tell me." He closed the entrance for the next group. "You go wait for the rest of your crew at the ride exit, please. Thank you, and have a nice day at FantastaWorld!"

The kids, still reeling from what they'd just been through, were too confused to argue and moved along.

The rest of the group came out in pairs over the next twenty minutes, each at various levels of panicked. Jim calmed each of them down and sent them to join the growing group of "survivors." Now that they were out and safe, most of them were talking about the ride and laughing at each other's reaction.

Jim came up with the last pair. "Alright, is that everyone?"

Charlie brushed him off. "Yeah, yeah, now let's get out of here already…" It seemed he was the only one who hadn't been very impressed afterwards. Jim charitably decided not to ask about the damp spot between his legs.

Jim glanced over them and frowned. "...nine… ten… weren't there twelve of you?"

A brown-haired boy looked over. "Hey, yeah. Where's Sarah? Wasn't she with you, Charlie?"

"Uh." He was sweating. "N-no, we got separated."

Jim shook his head. "Don't worry, everyone, I'll have her out in a jiffy. Hang tight."

He left them staring disapprovingly at Charlie and pulled a shiny new walky-talky from his station.

"Booker? You hear me?"

* * *

Sarah was not scared. She was too angry to be scared right now. That monster comes after them, and what does that blowhard do? He ditched her! He just took off without even trying to help or even check to see if she was running too. Now she was lost in this ridiculously huge house with these _stupid_ hallways that twist back in on themselves, and the bizarrely detailed rooms like a fully functional kitchen that was nevertheless completely empty of anything a kitchen needed, like, say, _food._ It was like they didn't know it was just a ride, like they weren't sure whether anyone was actually going to live here or not!

Take the room she was in now, for example. It was a great big library, that she swore had to take up a whole third of the house. And it was full of real books. Not props, _real_ books that you could actually read. Then there was the full-sized grand piano that actually played, sitting right in the middle of the room.

Sarah wasn't sure what was going on anymore. This _was_ just a ride wasn't it?

She heard a door creak open, followed by carpet-muffled footsteps. She dove under a table and hoped whatever it was would go away. She _really_ didn't want to have to deal with that thing again. Suddenly the room got brighter.

 _"*Miss? Are you - oh, pardon me -*_ Are you in here? Your friends are outside already, waiting for you!"

Sarah started at the voice, then stopped again when it changed from that harsh static to sounding almost human.

Almost. Not quite, but almost.

Something walked from behind the shelves, and she backed further under the table. She wasn't taking chances. She couldn't tell what it was under that… dress? Or maybe a robe? Something long and flowing, anyway.

The figure stopped, far closer than she'd have liked; she held her breath, praying for it to go away. The creature made a clicking sound, and then turned towards her hiding spot. Now she could see its feet; furred with long, shining claws…

* * *

Booker entered the library and took a moment to appreciate the sight. An entire room dedicated to books, and it was his to explore. Granted, the same applied to the entire manor, but it was the library that most excited him. Dr. Saul's office had only had so many books, and Dr. Cecil's barely had any at all that weren't work-related. Booker hadn't yet had an opportunity to properly enjoy it, but he could already tell that he would be spending more time in this room than anywhere else.

Except he wasn't here for that right now.

He shook himself and got to searching. Booker turned the knob next to the door, and the false candles along the wall brightened the room. He didn't need the extra light, but he thought it would put the girl more at ease.

He raised his volume and called out, _"*Miss? Are you - oh, pardon me -*"_ He frowned and fixed his voice. "Are you in here?"

No answer.

"Your friends are outside already, waiting for you!"

Still nothing. Booker briefly wished his eyebrows could actually move so he could properly express his concern.

He made his way to the center of the room, looking carefully. When he passed the third row of shelves, he heard a faint shuffling. He looked towards the sound. _Hmm_.

Booker was a bat. Moreover he was expected to work in dark places. As such, he had been built with minor sonar capabilities. It wasn't that impressive, really. Certainly it paled in comparison to an actual bat's echolocation, and wasn't nearly as precise or detailed. Still it was enough to keep him from bumping into things. He might not be able to tell what something was, but he'd at least know when there was anything at all.

His speaker clicked, and when the data came back half a second later he turned. The carpet wasn't helping, dampening the echoes as it was, but he was certain that third table had something under it. The tiny gasp when he turned only confirmed it.

He leaned down to see underneath. "Miss, are you-"

The girl looked braced, like she was expecting to run. She was trembling, eyes closed teeth and hands clenched in anticipation of the terror she was sure was coming any second.

Booker's face softened.

He wasn't sure what to do. He knew what he looked like. All said and done, he wasn't actually all that more frightening than, say, Foxy. He still had the soft fur, and the big friendly green eyes, when he wasn't making them go black. He had big, cartoony ears and the same black button nose as Freddy or Foxy. But he was very tall and lanky. He had a mouth full of sharp metal teeth, not one of which was less than an inch long. His fingers were long and came to points, his feet had big hooked claws, and his billowing cape-wings must have made him look like shadows were pouring off of him. He was designed to be intimidating, and intimidating he was.

In the light of day he might not look so scary. But in the dark, it was hard to see him as anything other than a monster.

Still, he had to try. Hesitant, he reached out and place his hand on her arm. "Are you alright, miss?" he asked, as gently as he possibly could.

The girl's eyes opened and she stared at him. He froze, waiting for her to make the first move.

Several seconds passed. She glanced at where his hand was still on her. He carefully withdrew it, and edged back to give her some space.

After almost a minute, she said, "Are you… the monster?"

 _Humor is an invaluable tool for easing tension._ Booker took on a scolding tone. "That's not very nice, young lady. You shouldn't be so quick to label someone based on their appearance."

Booker stood straight, ignoring the small yelp this elicited from his audience, and shook a fist at the ceiling in mock outrage. "I will not bow to your labels, foul oppressors! _I will not be labelled!_ "

 _*Beat*_

Booker looked back down at his guest. She looked hopelessly confused. _Confused is good. Much preferable to petrified._

"Now, get out from under there. What would your mother say if she knew you were crawling around under tables like a toddler?"

Sarah pulled herself up, grumbling.

"Capital! Now, if you'll follow me I'll lead you to the exit."

She perked up at that, and went after him. He noticed she was avoiding looking at him, but decided to let it be.

Shortly the two were back in the main hall. Jim was waiting for them by the door.

"Good job, Booker, you found her." He opened the door to let her out. "Hope it wasn't too much for you, ma'am?"

Sarah shook her head numbly.

"Oh well. Sorry for the trouble."

She could hear Charlie complaining over by the exit, and the anger flared back up a little. She smirked slightly, the thought of telling him off cheering her up immensely. Before she left, she turned to thank the… robot thing, but he was already gone. The stage was still empty, though. She shrugged and left.

* * *

There were several more customers after that, though there wasn't another group that big. Booker found the smaller groups more fun, anyway. He didn't have to split his focus as much that way.

Finally, the sun set and the park started closing. Jim showed the Manor's last customers out, then went to lock up. He was just about to lock the Manor itself when he noticed the animatronic sitting on his stage.

"Hey, Booker, great job today! One of those teenagers actually wet himself, you scared him so bad!"

The bat smiled politely. "Thank you, James. I quite enjoyed that group as well."

"Oh, one thing before I go: today's Saturday, so the park's gonna be closed tomorrow."

"I am aware. It was closed last Sunday as well."

Jim put his arms up defensively. "Hey, I'm just trying to help. Anyway, I won't be here tomorrow, but Henry's gonna come to tidy up the Manor for the next week. He'll be here in the morning until noon. He's not as young as he used to be, so try and stay out of his way, alright?"

A nod. "Okay, see you Monday, and goodnight."

Booker stayed on the stage for a while after that, going over the past weeks in his head. He certainly felt he would enjoy it here, although he wondered whether he would remain as busy once Halloween was over. Probably not. Still, the Manor was big and had all sorts of things to explore besides the library. He doubted he'd ever be without something to do.

He stood and strolled back to the library. It was late, but he didn't exactly need to sleep. He could easily put it off until the next night before his memory began to overwrite.

 _Although, that might not be a good idea to make a habit out of that…_ He discarded the thought. He wouldn't let it worry him just yet.

Yes, he could see that he would enjoy being the Frightful Manor monster. He worried though. The image of the girl Sarah, curled up under the table in fear, was still fresh in mind. He'd have to find a way around that. People went into a haunted house to be scared, but everyone had their limits. Booker didn't want to cross a line without meaning to.

When he arrived he scanned the room. He scowled at the disorder of the shelves. Whoever had brought in all these books had clearly not been bothered about maintaining any kind of system, and so two copies of _Dracula_ had been placed between a primary school textbook and - eugh. Booker pulled out the slim paperback in question. The faded cover featured a very… _robust_ young woman, and several pages seemed stained. Booker ripped the book in half and dropped it for the cleaning man to dispose of in the morning.

Yes, it appeared he'd be spending his free day organizing the library. Possibly several of them, he corrected himself, looking over the many shelves.

For now, though, he sat himself at the piano. He wasn't programmed knowing how to play like Bonnie had been, but that didn't mean he couldn't learn.

* * *

 **Ooooh boy, I'm excited. After I posted the first chapter yesterday, everything fell into place in my mind. I hadn't had any real idea for the story, but now...**

 **Heh. If I do this right, you're in for an interesting ride. But more on that later.**

 **Questions, comment, concerns?**


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